Problems and Secrets
by Shhh-Its-An-Alias
Summary: Bellatrix has problems, but not the kind that everyone thinks. Hermione has a secret, but not the kind she should want to protect. Not your average wartime encounter. One-shot Hermione/Bellatrix. Nothing too shocking.


All she had been reduced to was another huddled crying form, cloak hiding who she was to a point where her own sister ran past her, platinum hair flying behind her looking like the damsel in distress from an old fairytale, she wasn't ever lacking beauty. She didn't notice most people running past, she slipped into a classroom and barricaded herself in, safe behind magically reinforced wood and bent out of shape desks. Tears continued to trickle as she crawled into cupboard once used for books. She felt like a child during one of her mother and fathers fights. Always in the wardrobe. Always scared. Always hiding. Always weak. She had promised herself, promised she would never have to be weak again, the Dark Lord had promised her, she would never have to be a weak child anymore, never have to be scared. He lied. And now she was here, locking herself away and crying like a child again.

The world boomed around the cupboard but no-one could get in there no-one. The walls were falling people were dyeing people were screaming and running. As it turned out the wall had fallen and three children were standing in the room, all Bellatrix could see out of was the thin crack between door panels, the children were unrecognisable through it but the voice of one, the girl, the only girl there. Her voice was recognizable. When you've heard someone beg, heard them cry and scream for mercy you remember their name for as long as they live. The Granger girl.

They were talking but no matter how hard she tried Bellatrix couldn't hear what they were saying, both boys ran off separately, past Bellatrix's limited range of view. As she shifted trying to see where the Potter boy had gone her foot (which had been until then propped against the side of the cupboard,) slipped landing with a loud thud. Bellatrix grimaced and pawed at her wand holster before realising it was empty. The girls eyes snapped within a fraction of a second to the cupboard, wand drawn. She would have been proud of her if it wasn't under these circumstances.

Careful and slow steps signalled Hermiones approach, her eyes were wide and focused, scared. She couldn't be about to open the door could she? She couldn't, no-one could get in here. This was safe. Closed. Safe. She couldn't. Pale battle scarred hands grasped at the skull beneath the wild black curls. Dark brown eyes closed as plump red lips battled for oxygen. Rocking slightly her chest heaved again and again, gasping ragged breaths came again and again but they failed to extinguish any of the panic. The door opened and the breaths sped up, her hands were clawing at her skull, breaths were taken again and again, faster and faster. Bellatrix's small huddled and cloaked form fell out of the cupboard, twisting and gasping for oxygen that wouldn't come.

Hermiones hands were soft and calm despite the speed they moved at. Hermiones hands pulled the hair from Bellatrixs face and pulled her up until she was sat up. Hermione stroked her back in circling motion as Bellatrix got paler, still struggling to breath.  
"Safe... Breath... hiding...(cough)... no...(splutter)... weakness..." It was fair to say, that Bellatrix wasn't really making that much sense.

"Shhhhhh..." Hermione whispered calmly soothing Bellatrix "its OK, don't panic, you're safe. No-one will hurt you, you're safe. I've got you." Hermione words calmed Bellatrix down enough so she could take a breath, after a few coughing shuddering deep breaths she collapsed, leaning onto Hermione for support.  
"You're not supposed to see me like this Granger. No-one is." Bellatrixs voice was just hateful enough to show it was still her, still the same psycho bitch. Hermione slipped out from behind Bellatrix and let her fall to the floor with a startled gasp.

With a smirk Hermione straddled Bellatrixs waste, leaning tantalisingly close to the older woman she whispered against her lips.  
"Shut the fuck up Lestrange."

And like that, in the heat of battle, with dust still left to settle and spells still unfired needed to dodge, two enemies became lovers and two weaknesses became one secret.


End file.
